


Diet

by Konstantinsen



Category: RWBY
Genre: Crack, Fish, Gen, Humor, Trollpin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 15:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17062325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konstantinsen/pseuds/Konstantinsen
Summary: Hades hath no fury than Blake denied her fish. Or something along those lines. [one-shot]





	Diet

Hades hath no fury than a lady scorned.

Or something along those lines. Regardless, it still applied to the situation at hand: there is no fury worse than a faunus starved. More specifically, pity the idiots who thought it was a good idea to deny Blake Belladonna her tuna.

* * *

_Week One_

Blake had to do a double take. And a third. And a fourth. She was blinking incredulously at the sign posted over the buffet line:

_NO FISH – OUT OF STOCK_

“This can't be happening,” she muttered under her breath.

“What's wrong, Blake?” asked Yang. “You look like you saw a gho—oh.”

The faunus glared at her partner as she snickered with that mocking grin plastered over her stupid face. This was a shortage. A famine! And Yang had the audacity to laugh it off like it was nothing. No. This cannot be true. This simply cannot be!

“Hey, now. Cheer up. It's just for today. There's always tomorrow,” the blonde assured as she left for their table with her tray full of food deficient in proteins necessary for the physical demands of a being a Huntress, much less one in training.

Blake felt her fists clench as she opted to skip breakfast. “It's just today. It's just today...”

* * *

_Week Two_

Blake was sure was she was not the only one who noticed the total absence of seafood in Beacon's diet. No. Not just Beacon. The whole of Vale, for some incomprehensible reason, was suffering a shortage of fish! There was a conspiracy afoot and Blake had been poring every effort to determine the cause of this...heinous crime against humani—err—faunus-kind!

“Seriously, Blake, you need to eat!” pleaded Ruby as she held out a plate of steaming vegetables.

Ruby asking someone to eat veggies happened once in a blue shattered moon. Apparently, the faunus was too busy researching possible leads on the man-made seafood drought.

“She's reverted back to her obsessive stage,” Weiss observed worriedly. “This is beyond ridiculous now.”

“Blake, come on,” Yang egged, yanking on her arm. “You have to eat. This isn't the right way to get on a diet.”

The faunus mechanically craned her head at them, her weighted eyes boring into theirs. “The seafood conspiracy must be exposed...”

As it was for the tenth time this week, team RW_Y was unsuccessful in reining in some normality back into their shadowy member.

* * *

_Week Three_

“I will not be subject to this torture!” Blake screeched as she thrashed against her restraints, forcing Professors Oobleck and Port to manage their distance as they delicately wheeled her to one of Beacon's 'panic rooms' to be force-fed.

“Is she going to be okay?” asked a whimpering Ruby as she clung to Yang.

The blonde ruffled her hair. “Blake will be fine. This is just a phase... Right, Miss Goodwitch?”

Glynda pinched the bridge of her nose to let out some stress before facing the concerned team. “It will take some time but I assure you, Miss Belladonna will receive the best of our treatment.”

“I'm not so confident in Beacon handling said treatment,” Weiss remarked quietly, straining to look away from what was once a sane member of their team.

“My tuna! You will not deny me my tuna!”

“She's breaking free!”

“Hold her down while I get some more leather!”

“Are you insane, Peter!? Leaving me here with this writhing—gah!”

“She's loose!”

Glynda growled, whipping her riding crop, and containing the feral faunus in the air before she could pounce on the nearest figure in her radius. Bits of foam floated out of her mouth as her amber eyes pierced hers with an intense and—pardon the term—animalistic rage. This was a person deprived of her sustenance.

Oobleck and Port slowly crawled out of cover when they felt the coast was clear. Once more, this time, they applied steel chains to hold her down, having snuck in an injection (or two) to numb her Semblance.

In minutes, the two traumatized professors sealed the padded room, out of breath and starved of any sense of bravery. From inside, Blake growled and clawed at the walls, emitting sounds that would make even the Grimm run and hide. For all they knew, this was one section of the Academy that would have to be renovated once this was all over.

“Oh my,” Ozpin echoed from the end of the corridor. “This has gotten problematic.”

Team RW_Y were too gripped with worry to notice the knowing glares thrown his way by Glynda, Oobleck, and Port.

* * *

_Week Four_

“Remind me again what we had to learn from this 'experiment'?” Glynda hissed through clenched teeth.

Ozpin sipped at his drink, rested his mug on his desk, and stood from his chair to gaze down at the view from his office. Down below, a certain raven-haired cat faunus satisfactorily wolfed down tuna sandwich after tuna sandwich from a picnic basket much to the unease of her teammates and everyone else brave enough to be within twenty feet of her. “Certain individuals are prone to weaknesses that, once exploited, can be beyond conventional means to contain.”

“You squandered a portion of our budget—including our contingency funds—to orchestrate an embargo on seafood products to the whole of Vale.”

“For research purposes. And higher learning. And training for both our students and staff when it comes to unique situations such as the case with Miss Belladonna.”

She shook her head. “I swear there is something in that mug of yours that gives you these crazy ideas.”

“I'm the headmaster,” he answered her with a minute smirk. “Let me have my fun from time to time.”

Glynda sighed in defeat. Might as well. Ozpin being denied humoring himself is a more bearable torment than Blake Belladonna deprived of her fish. Or Oobleck deprived of his caffeine. Or Port deprived of his 'pets.' Come to think of it, Ozpin deprived of whatever exactly it was he was drinking (she was damn sure it was _neither_ coffee _nor_ tea) is probably a nightmare worse than Grimm overrunning Beacon.

* * *

**ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: April 19, 2018**

**LAST EDITED: April 19, 2018**

**INITIALLY UPLOADED: April 19, 2018 [FFN]  
**

**NOTE: Originally posted on FFN. At the time, I had downed one too many power drinks and came up with this in place of my dissertation paper.**


End file.
